Only The Moon Howls
by Annamonk
Summary: He was a married man with a baby on the way when he realized his mistake. He honored his promises despite it all. What happens when his world shifts? What happens when doing the right thing fails? Not my sand box, but I do love playing in it.
1. Chapter 1

There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls. -George Carlin

* * *

The rain came down and washed over her. She knew she shouldn't be here. It wasn't her place, and it wasn't right. She'd made the promises and kept them. She'd stayed away.

The Weasley family had left her after the break with Ron. It hadn't been bitter or angry. They just drifted apart. There were no questions asked, and her secrets were well kept.

She traveled and studied. Harry married Ginny. Ron eventually settled down with Lavender. She attended the family weddings. George and Angelina's had been decidedly more fun than the others, but they left her feeling lonely, stoked the misery of her solitary existence.

It was easier to lose herself in her work. There wouldn't be a happy ending in her future. Work was enough. Not that she had other options.

They became acquaintances. The Weasley clan would smile and greet her with all the platitudes of old school chums. Happy enough to see each other at functions, but the bonds of war and childhood had broken.

So, what had brought her here? She glared down at the letter in her hand. One of six she'd gotten from Harry in the last four years, it was mostly the usual tripe. The one line about Bill and Fleur calling it quits had brought her back to England. A wolf didn't do well without a mate. She looked up at the sodden sky and wished she could see the moon.

"Are you going to stand out there all night, Hermione?" Bill growled at her from the door.

"Sorry." She met his gaze and smirked. "I drop by for a visit and you growl. Lovely."

"The moon..." He glanced up at the sky.

"Won't be full for another five days." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Are you still using that excuse?"

"What else was I supposed to say?" He snarled as she shoved passed him. "My ex wife certainly wouldn't have appreciated the truth."

"I'm just surprised they still believe you're this much of a bastard." Hermione swung her long hair around and turned to face him.

"I am this much of a bastard. I've been living a lie to do the right thing by my wife and children. It doesn't make for a happy life." He closed the door and slid the bolt home. "I did that, and she was packed and out the door within the day after she met that prissy bird man. She left the kids."

"Her veela mate would kill them while in the first flush of mating. She's doing the responsible thing." Hermione shrugged off her coat and tossed it to him. He took a deep breath and hung it on the hooks next to the door.

"I stayed with her. I pushed down the wolf." He ran his hand through his tangled hair. His fingers ripped through the snarls, and he looked over at her. "I gave you up."

"She was pregnant. We made the right choice at the time." Hermione took a half step toward him. "Why didn't you write to me? Why did I find out about this in a letter from Harry?"

He started to pace. The low rumble breaking from his throat made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She fought the urge to growl at him. A fight wouldn't help.

"There's a letter I want to write. I'm a failure as a man. My wife has left me. My own mother won't let my children sleep in their own beds at night because my wolf side frightens her. Why don't you get your tail here? I'm ready to openly claim you." He pressed his forehead against the wall. "What do I have to offer you? I sent you away. How was I supposed to ask you to come back?"

"So, you're still punishing yourself." Hermione stalked toward him. He didn't retreat. "I've spent years traveling from place to place. Nothing could satisfy me. Nothing felt right. There was no peace for me. Offer me a home. Offer me a place in your life."

She stopped a stride away from him. It fell to him to make the choice. She bit her lower lip lightly. Showing up here forced the issue. She'd be damned before she'd beg him.

He looked at her full on. He'd shoved his hair back and revealed his scars. She fought the urge to trace them, fought the urge to throw herself at him. She yanked the scarf from around her neck and dropped it to the floor. The scoop neck of her tee did nothing to hide the pale marks his teeth had left in her skin. She watched his eyes drop to the place just above her collar bone where the half moon made by his upper teeth rode her skin. He reached out and traced it with his finger.

"You looked so lovely that night." His voice took on a husky timbre. "Flush with victory from your N.E.W.T. exams, celebrating your birth."

"It was a good night." Hermione blushed.

"It was a horrible night." Bill pulled his hand back. "I was drunk, but I do remember what I did."

"I was there, Bill." Hermione sighed. He wasn't ready. She'd come here with her heart in her hands, but he wasn't ready. She took a step back.

"I'd just found out about my impending fatherhood. I was celebrating. I felt lighter for the first time since the war." Bill frowned. "I'd never been drunk around you, so I'd managed to ignore it or explain it all away. You were my brother's friend. You had been tortured. Of course I was protective. It made sense."

"I don't need the excuses, Bill." Hermione shook her head and clenched her fists. She didn't want to cry in front of him, and she didn't want to hurt him.

"No, you want me. I'm supposed to believe you're here because you care." He took two steps and brought his body toe to toe with hers. His hand shot out and settled over the mark he'd ripped into her skin. "It's this that brings you here. Such a little thing. It's just a scar, but it means you're here for the same reason Fleur isn't. Instinct."

Hermione closed her eyes and shrugged off his hand. The sting of his rejection was all too real. She'd spent years imagining him. Spent years denying herself the comforts of home and hearth. She shook her head and rolled her lips in over her teeth. She took another step back and turned away from him.

"I guess I should be going." She managed the words, but hated the pain they didn't conceal. Why did her ability to hide things fail her now? She wiped at the tears streaming hotly down her face with the back of her hand and looked down into the fire. "I won't trouble you again."

She summoned her coat with the flick of her wrist, and didn't bother to put it on. The rain couldn't hurt her more than remaining here for another minute. She turned around. No sop for her dignity, she knew she looked awful. She wasn't a pretty crier.

"So, you're off? Did your duty and made the offer, did you?" He flattened his palm against the door. "You don't want this. A broken partial lycanthrope and three needy and abandoned children? Isn't that every woman's dream? You came here because you have an inflated sense of responsibility. Admit it."

"I shouldn't have come." Hermione ducked her head and looked away from him. "I thought I spent years wandering around with nothing and no one because you chose duty. I thought it was noble. I was a bloody fool. You were drunk and your wolf got the better of you. That's all it ever was. You had a wife. You had children. I had an old familiar that didn't make it a year. I had a few stolen glances at social events where I couldn't be avoided. The scales have fallen from my eyes. Don't worry. Let me out."

"There's been no one?" He grabbed her shoulder and yanked her close. There was an odd ring of amber forming around his pupil. "You were free."

"I wasn't free." She shoved him back. "I became a ghost to my friends to make this easier for you. I did all of these stupid, idiotic things to ease your burden. I was never free."

"You're still a draw for the press. I've seen the pictures. You were at a quidditch game with Krum last week." Bill sneered.

"Yes, I was. We are friends. He asked me to be godmother to his son. I said yes." Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's a happily married man."

"So was I." Bill snarled.

"I'm sorry that Fleur left you. I'm sorry that she didn't have the strength that you did. I'm sorry she wasn't your mate." Hermione snarled and flung her coat down. "I'm sorry that I'm not good enough for you. I should never have come here."

"I'm a wizard." Bill bent enough to bring them face to face. "I'm a man."

"I know that." Hermione slapped her hand against his chest. "I was there that night."

"That was the wolf." Bill took a step forward. She leaned back to avoid his touch.

"It was the wolf that pushed me up against the wall and tossed up my skirts?" Hermione laughed. "Of course it was. It was the wolf that bit into my flesh and marked me. It was the wolf that left the blood of my virginity smeared on my thighs while the man panicked. Blame the wolf. You're a man, and you are a coward."

She tried to push passed him, but his arm shot out and dragged her back. She pulled away from him and yanked her wand out of its sheath on her thigh. She dragged in a deep breath and tried to center herself.

"I'm not a coward." He didn't look at her wand.

"Your mother has your children because you aren't man enough to stand up to her. You blame the wolf for all your problems, but the wolf is part of you." She dragged her free hand across her mark. "That night was a full moon. I'm not destroyed. I like a rare steak from time to time."

"They said I couldn't pass it on." Bill shook his head.

"Yes, mediwizards that have less understanding of lycanthropy than a mermaid has of the dessert told you something, and you accepted it." Hermione took another deep breath. "I've spent these years researching. I'll send you a copy of the book when it's published. You don't want me. Fine. I'm walking out of here."

"So, you're just like her." Bill dropped to his knees. "You're just going to leave?"

Hermione lowered her wand. He looked defeated. The vital man that she remembered was shattered.

"I'm your mate." She sheathed her wand. "I came to you. I want to be with you, but I won't come back here without an invitation."

She stroked her fingers along his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. She fought the urge to comfort him. He needed to find his way to her.

"Stay." Bill's voice was nearly lost in the crackle of the fire.

"I'll be in England, but you aren't ready to be with me. I may have let Fleur take my place, but I won't take hers." Hermione pressed her lips to his forehead. "We have time to get this right."


	2. Chapter 2

He found her two days later. She was cleaning out an old manor house with a troupe of house elves. The lot were chattering in a high pitched musical language. Hermione tossed her head back and laughed. Hopping hippogriffs,?she was lovely. He felt the mating pull, but he wasn't ready to rush in. She slapped her denim encased thigh as she laughed, and one of the elves blushed. He saw one of the others eyeing him. There was no safe retreat.

"Hermione." He coughed. "I'm sorry to barge in."

"No you're not." Hermione shook her head and set the few curls that had escaped her ponytail to bouncing. "You sent an owl with a tracer this morning. I knew you were coming."

He looked down at his scuffed boots. Of course, she'd caught him out. She was focused and so bloody intelligent. A tracing spell wasn't going to fool her.

"I'm not angry." She looked over at the elves and trilled out something beyond his comprehension. "We should have lunch. Let's walk down to the lower terrace."

She stood up and moved toward him with long, easy strides. He felt the instincts rise. The urge to reclaim her wasn't at all human. He fisted his hands next to his legs. Shoving her against a wall wasn't a good idea. He didn't want to hurt her again.

He watched her walk passed him and took a deep breath. Goddess, she smelled good. He shook his head and strode after her. She didn't glance back at him or encourage him. He felt the loss of her good opinion keenly.

They walked through open French doors onto a large terrace. The thing was all rounded edges and seemed to flow down the hill to a larger terrace that was sculpted into the large lawn. He glanced back at the stark straight lines of the house. The place appeared so formal, but this fit somehow.

"What is this place?" He glanced toward Hermione with a raised brow.

"It was my Great-grandfather's home." Hermione smiled. "He was a tad eccentric. He put it in my name before he died. There were all kinds of provisions in his will to keep the place up. I didn't know about it until after the war, and I'm glad. I would have used it, but this way is better. It's untainted."

He nodded and turned out to examine the place. Their were woods at the edge of the property. He'd expected rolling, bucolic hills dotted with sheep.

"It was supposed to be a hunting lodge, but it has ten bedrooms. I have no idea how it came to be in our family. My parents wouldn't even visit." Hermione was looking passed him toward the house. "I'm not sure what to do with all the space, but I doubt I'll ever need to extend it."

"It has a nice energy." Bill looked back towards the forest. "It's comforting."

"Oh, Merlin! They went overboard." Hermione trotted down the smaller rounded terraces to the bottom. He watched her and restrained himself. Chasing after her wouldn't help with his instinctual drives. Tackling her to the ground and ripping her clothes off wasn't a good idea. He took a deep breath and cursed under his breath. Did she have to smell so delicious?

He examined her as he stepped down toward her. He didn't want to compare her to Fleur. It seemed wrong. He'd spent so many years ignoring her, ignoring the call of her, that he had trouble seeing her. He could still see her pressed against the wall, the skirt of her red dress rumpled between their joined bodies, moments before he'd changed both their lives forever. He felt the usual rise of shame. It didn't matter that the act had been consensual. He'd taken everything from her and given her nothing but scars in return. She'd come to him again and tried to offer him hope, but he'd done his best to wreck her efforts. How did a man apologize for the things he'd done? He ran a hand through his hair.

She was settled on a plaid blanket on the bottom terrace with a giant basket beside her. There were plump pillows all around to recline against. Her elves had made to whole thing look romantic.

He watched Hermione fuss with the basket. His mate. He knew he'd hurt her. He'd been wallowing in his despair. Sharing it came easily.

He was man enough to do the right thing. She deserved to be wooed. He wasn't going to let her sacrifice their courtship to his needs. He was wizard more than wolf.

He closed the distance between them and settled near her on the blanket. Her eyes flashed amber briefly. He froze.

"You're a wolf?" He tilted his head and dragged her scent into his body.

"I'm a partial." She blushed. "Since the night we..."

"They told me I couldn't make more." Bill clenched his fists against his thighs.

"Mediwizards and healers don't know much about lycanthropy." She shrugged. "They see it as an incurable disease. Partial lycanthropes are rare, so they know even less."

"You've done research?" Bill glanced at her through his lashes.

"I have. I found a pack in Bulgaria. Half the pack were partials. They viewed me, us, as blessed. We get the strengths without having to go through the rigors of full transformation." Hermione shrugged. "The healers were right in a way. You could only change me. It's an odd bit of preferential magic."

He ate as she went on about her research. He should have paid attention. The things she'd learned were valuable, but he couldn't help wondering why the magic had worked with her. If he had bitten Fleur, could this entire situation been avoided? Would his children still have a mother?

He heard her huff out a breath and forced himself to focus on her.

"I'm used to being ignored. Merlin knows, Ron and Harry made a sport of it." She glanced down at her hands.

He swallowed the last bite of his sandwich. Gods, could he screw this up more?

"I'm sorry. You got me thinking and I chased the thought instead of staying here with you." He shifted against the pillows and met her eyes.

"What were you thinking about?" She tilted her head.

He had to tell her the truth. She'd know if he lied. He took a deep breath.

"I wondered if I had bitten Fleur..." He trailed off when Hermione growled. It was a deep rumbling sound. Some part of him liked it.

"Sorry." She blushed and glanced away. "It wouldn't have made a difference. Your wolf chose me. It's an instinct, the magic."

"An instinct?" He felt his anger starting to rise. "Some bloody instinct did this?"

"A veela isn't compatible with a wolf. In pure forms, a werewolf and a veela have different needs." Hermione grimaced and looked out to the forest. "Veela are solitary. Wolves like a pack. You loved her as a man. She loved you as a woman. I'm sorry that she wasn't strong enough to reject her mate and stay with you."

"Are you?" Bill wanted the question back even as it left his lips. He saw the pain on her face.

"I am. You managed to love her and build a family with her. It's painful watching you struggle in the aftermath." Hermione shrugged. "I'll never take her place. I'll never be the one you chose. I'm a bloody consolation prize."

He had her in his arms before his mind caught up to his actions. Her tears here hot against his throat. He pulled her closer to his chest and rocked her.

"You're not a consolation prize." He rested his head on top of hers. "I'm an imbecile. I've spent so many years forcing myself into a mold and trying to make it work that I've forgotten how to handle life without it."

She shuddered against him, but he knew she was listening.

"I want to get it right this time. I want to know you inside and out. I want you to feel how special you are." He took a deep breath. "I want all of it, but I'm struggling to figure out how to walk again."

"I understand." Her voice sounded watery, and he was glad she couldn't see his grin.

"We are going to take this slow." Bill stroked his hand down her back. "We will have lots of awkward lunches to start. How does that sound?"

Her chuckle made him feel lighter than he had in years. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and stared off toward the forest. This was where he belonged.


	3. Chapter 3

"I always knew something was wrong between you and Fleur." Charlie grinned. "But Hermione Granger?"

Bill growled at his brother and shoved his shoulder. He'd needed to talk to someone, but Charlie might not have been the best choice. Not that there was a better one.

"I get it. You don't have to growl." Charlie waved his hand dismissively at Bill. "You spent a lot of years forcing yourself to do things. It must be a relief to find they come easier now."

"Nothing is easier." Bill shook his head. "We've had a month of awkward lunches and two dinners at her perfect house with her perfect elves. I'm a fool. I know it, but I can't figure out how to deal with all of this."

"You spent years trying. That's what happens when a wolf lives in denial. Did Remus ever seem happy to you?" Charlie shook his head. "He only took on Tonks because Sirius was dead."

"Remus and Sirius?" Bill blinked.

"Yeah, Remus and Sirius." Charlie grinned. "You want it to be a struggle because you've come to expect that. You want it to be work, but it isn't. It isn't, and you panic. She's your mate. She's bloody brilliant. She's quite the looker. Let yourself be happy."

"What if she isn't ready?" Bill took a swig from his glass of fire whiskey. "What if I've hurt her too much?"

"There is something seriously wrong with you." Charlie shook his head. "But, I don't think you have to worry about inviting her to the next Sunday dinner."

"Why not?" Bill frowned.

"Because she's outside with Harry and Ginny." Charlie smirked. "Guess she decided to quit waiting."

He turned and glanced out the window. The glass had a ripple in it, but there was no mistaking his mate. He drew in a deep breath, and Charlie clapped him on the shoulder.

"Let her come to you." Charlie moved around to find a good view through the glass. "You are a lucky man. Let her settle in. Give Mum a chance to not hate her. Bet that's her plan."

Bill watched his mate through the evening. She spent time with each member of the family. Laughing at old memories and reclaiming her place in their orbit. He wanted to squeeze her hand when George tossed his head back and laughed until tears streamed from his eyes. He wanted to pull her close when his mother grinned as they worked in the kitchen together. He wanted to hug her when she spent an hour trying to explain the difference between a parasol and an umbrella to his father. He wanted to kiss her when she punched Ron playfully and still managed to make him whine.

He wanted to scoop her up in front of all and sundry when she met his children. He watched her from across the room as Louis curled up his little legs and plopped down in her lap. She stroked through his burnished locks with one hand until he drifted off to sleep with her hair wrapped around his fist.

"Louis doesn't take to anyone." Harry came up beside him. "I don't think I've ever seen him so content."

"He does look happy." Bill smiled. This was what he wanted. This sense of peace and belonging.

"Your boy has good taste." Harry grinned.

Bill examined Harry carefully. His brother in law smelled off. Nervous. His senses were picking up signs of distress. Harry looked miserable. Bill looked back at Hermione. He was something coming, but he didn't want to rush his brother in law.

"She went through a lot in the war. Lost a lot." Harry blinked. "I've been a shite friend. She wrote every week at first. I was so angry with her, I didn't answer. I let her drift away. I let her run. I know you've been seeing her, having lunches. Don't hurt her. Please."

"I'm trying to do this right." Bill managed to get the words out.

"I was the one that told her to go. She was a mess. Her neck was still bleeding. I didn't even try to help her." Harry took a deep breath. "I didn't think I could forgive her for destroying your family. Turns out, I didn't know what I was talking about."

"You knew all this time?" Bill clenched his fists against his legs. "You told her to leave?"

"You picked Fleur. You wanted Fleur. She was pregnant." Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "I always wanted a family. When Hermione left, things seemed good between you and Fleur."

"You told my mate to leave me." Bill felt the growl rumbling in his chest.

"I didn't know about the pain. I swear." Harry backed up and raised his hands. "I didn't read Remus' journal until recently. I didn't know what it would be like for either of you. I didn't know how hard it is to deny the instinct."

Bill knew his eyes were shifting colors. He knew that leaving was the best option. He knew killing Harry wouldn't help assuage his own guilt. He knew all of it, but he couldn't get his legs to move.

"Daddy." Victoire bounced next to him and grabbed his hand. "Look what the nice lady did to my hair."

Bill focused on his five year old's delighted face and noticed that her strawberry blonde hair was braided into a crown with flowers artfully woven through it.

"I look like a sprite. Uncle Charlie said." She spun around and giggled. "She's gonna tell us a story about these magic lines in Pedu when she's all done with Nickie's hair."

Bill looked over at Hermione. He knew she'd heard every word. He knew she was protecting Harry, but it didn't matter. Seeing her with one of his children asleep in her lap and another perched on her knee was too great a draw. He moved across the room and conjured a few pillows and settled at her feet with Vicky tucked up against his chest.

"Do you want me to braid your hair, Bill?" Hermione pressed her free knee into his shoulder slightly. He leaned against her leg and dozed as she talked about her time in Peru.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione was tired of waiting. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and grimaced. She wasn't plain, but she wasn't a great beauty. No veela perfection for her. She closed her eyes and fought the urge to smash the mirror. It wasn't the mirror's fault that her mate didn't want her.

Fleur was still there. She was still in his head and in his heart. It was obvious.

Her mate had managed to have a relationship with another woman. He'd loved Fleur enough to overcome the revulsion of another's touch. Loved his wife enough to give her children.

Hermione groaned. She should have known. The wolf in him might be drawn to her, but the man wasn't. Three children. Years of intimacy. She blinked at the rush of tears pricking at her eyes. He'd been loving Fleur while she got sick when any man so much as looked at her.

She'd spent years of her life doing the wrong thing for the right reason. She'd wanted him to have his family. She had given him his choice. She'd thought it was the right thing to do.

She bit into her lower lip. Maybe it had been. Leaving her mate had been the hardest thing she'd ever done until she came back. Maybe she should have stayed away.

She'd come back with hope. She'd nurtured it. She hadn't broken his marriage, so she couldn't be blamed. She hadn't done a bloody thing wrong, but he was still hiding her. He was still pushing her away.

She was damn tired of it.

Fleur would always be the one for Bill.

Hermione slumped against the dresser and pressed her forehead to the cool glass of the mirror. She wanted to howl. She wanted to bite and claw and tear, but there was nothing to rip apart. There was no way to rip up what was already gone, no way to exorcise a living ghost.

She felt him enter through the wards and grimaced. Another lunch. Another step in his useless courtship ritual. She growled.

She was his. He didn't need to bloody woo her. She'd never have his heart. Pain ripped through her. She clenched her fists and pressed them in against her belly. He didn't have to love her. He could just be with her because she was what he had left, and she could pretend. She was good at that.

She turned away from the mirror and stumbled over the edge of the carpet. She fell to her knees, and the sobs broke free. Wrenching, horrible sounds filled the room. She rocked back on her legs and wrapped her arms tightly around her body. He would be in the house soon. She tried to stop, but the pain wouldn't go back in the box.

She flinched as she imagined leaving this house to go live in Shell Cottage. He'd moved the children back in there despite the fact that this house was better suited to a large family. The little cottage by the sea. Fleur's house.

She could hear him now. His feet were moving up the steps to the main door. He knew she was crying. He knew, and she was done hiding it. What was the point? She curled in on her body and settled on the floor.

She heard each step. He was running up the stairs. Duty bound to see to his mate. He opened the door and was beside her before she'd focused her eyes.

"What's wrong?" He was checking her for wounds. "What happened?"

"Nothing." She pushed up and away from him. "Ignore it."

He watched her as she backed away from him. She wiped at her cheeks and tried to smile. He took a step toward her. His eyes were still examining her, still looking for an injury.

"I'm fine." She held up her hands and he stopped.

"You're lying." Bill closed the distance between them in one long stride. "You are not fine. Tell me what's wrong."

"Will that fix it?" Hermione flipped her hair back over her shoulder. "Do I have to be so pathetic? Do I have to beg you to kiss it better?"

Something flared in his eyes. She caught the quick shift. He was probably trying to figure out the best path for a quick retreat.

"You want me to kiss you?" Bill's voice had gone syrupy. He ran his long fingers along her side. "You want my touch?"

She blinked. Why did he sound so unsure? She stepped back and felt the bed press into the back of her legs. He closed the distance between them again. His hands cupped her hips. She could feel the heat of him through her jeans.

"I've been trying to be good." His lips were suddenly next to her ear. "I didn't want to rush you or make you feel used. If you don't want this, you have to tell me now."

His voice was a seduction of its own. She flattened her palms on the flat planes of his chest and looked up at him.

"You want me?" She hated the odd quaver in her voice. "This isn't something we can go back from, not this time."

"I wish we hadn't then. I let obligations sway me." He slid his hands up to her waist. She could feel his thumbs resting directly on the flesh of her abdomen. "I chose the wrong ones. I handled it wrong. I've spent years pretending. I'm done."

She dropped her head against his chest and felt the blooming heat of his body. She dragged in his scent with every breath. Old books, leather, and something earthy mixed into that particular scent that was his alone.

"You're done?" She managed to drag her head up and look into his eyes again.

"I'm done pretending I want to be anywhere but next to you." He bent down and pushed her hair back with his nose. He licked along the shell of her ear before he nipped the lobe. "I want to be here."

She shivered and pressed her body into his.

"I want to be with you." He slid his hands down to her legs and lifted her up. "I want to be in you."

Hermione jumped into his arms, wrapped her legs around his hips, and twisted her torso sending them tumbling onto the bed. She grinned and pressed his shoulders down into the bedding. He grabbed her hips and flipped them with easy grace.

"We are not in a hurry. I want this to be good for you." He nuzzled into her neck and kissed the scars he'd created.

His fingers were pushing and pulling at her clothing. She could tell that buttons had been slipped from their holes and she didn't give a good damn. Every bit of skin he bared received some sort of attention. Stroking fingers, scraping nails, nipping teeth, and soothing tongue pushed her to the edge of sanity.

She heard her own whimpers and moans, but she couldn't remember making the sounds. She couldn't focus her mind enough to form words.

His warm hand settled over her womb. He pressed his hand in slightly. She felt the heat of his magic slide into her body. He was calling his power as he held her. She could feel it thrum through her and let her own go.

She shuddered as their magic fused. Their physical bodies stilled as their magic writhed and then wrapped around them. She could feel it move along her skin as his hands had moments before. It licked at her like fire and then soothed the burn away. Bill moaned and pulled her closer to his body. She could feel his muscles contracting and a low rumbling growl vibrated out of his chest. She could almost imagine what the change would be like. She took a deep breath and let herself experience the joy of giving over to the wolf.

"I want to do this right." Bill muttered against her ear.

Hermione twisted free from his hold and flipped him onto his back. His shirt was on the floor. She traced her fingers along his shoulders. A light dusting of freckles decorated his shoulders. She slid her fingers from one to the next, mapping his constellations for her own star charts. Bill dragged in a breath. His eyes were edged with amber. She stroked her hand down his chest and smiled as he arched into her touch.

"I am yours, Hermione." He grabbed her hand and dragged it up to press it over his heart. "I want you."

"I won't share you." Hermione blinked and glanced away from his eyes. "If any part of you isn't sure, we need to stop."

"I'm sure. There's only you." He cupped her chin and stroked his fingers along her jaw. "I want to wear your mark. I want to marry you and make a life with you."

"Here. In this house." Hermione took a deep breath. "Our home."

"It's perfect." He let his hand drop and pulled her across him to sprawl over his chest. "I want our life to begin."

His hair had come free of its tie and fanned across her pillows. She curled the strands around her hand and pulled his head to the side slowly. She watched his neck bend and his pulse race just under the skin. The memory of his teeth sinking into her flesh came to the fore. He'd changed her in that moment. He'd altered the courses of their lives, corrected them. She licked down from just behind his ear to the place where his neck joined his body. He tensed underneath her. His body went rigid. Each breath was a battle. She kissed the spot where her mark would rest and felt him shiver.

"Please." He tried to arch his neck toward her.

She took a deep breath and bit. Her teeth sank through his skin. She felt the warmth of his blood in her mouth before the taste of it hit her. He shuddered, and she growled. He needed to submit. He needed to surrender. He needed to accept her. He relaxed. She felt him struggle against the pain. Her jaw locked down. Waiting for him to accept her was difficult, but she had to wait for him. He took a deep breath and went limp beneath her. Their bond that had always pulled at her suddenly offered her something. She could feel the warmth of it.

"I love you." He stroked her hair with one hand. "I always will."

She released his flesh and laved at the marks she'd made. Her tongue caught drops of his blood, but she felt no shame. This was her mate. He moaned and pulled her body closer. She pressed her cheek to his. This was bliss. She felt the connection settle, felt it solidify.

"I love you, too." Hermione pressed a kiss against his jaw. "My mate."

He erupted beneath her and flipped them over once more. She giggled as he ripped at the last of his clothing. He growled at her, and she nipped his chin. He grinned triumphantly and pressed his bare skin against hers.

She reveled in his touch and in her freedom to touch him. His hands slid along her legs, pressing them apart. She bit her lower lip. He pulled her lip free with a gentle kiss.

Soft lips pressed against hers as he settled between her legs. She'd never been more aware of her petite form. She buried her fingers in his hair and whimpered. His lips covered her face in tiny kisses.

She could feel him against her, feel every part of him against her. It wasn't a dream. She raised her hips in invitation.

He slid home and rested his forehead against hers. His scent, his aura, all of him, all that formed him enveloped her. Each languorous stroke pulled at her, and she surrendered into shuddering release. There was no screaming. This coupling wasn't marked by the violence of their first one. This was an act of love. He never stopped pushing her and pulling her and taking her higher. He never stopped.

"Goddess." He breathed into her mouth as she gasped for air. He stole her breath with the warm slide of his tongue on hers.

"Please." She wasn't sure if she was begging him for more or begging him to join her. Her body quivered and ached, and he pressed her toward another peak.

"Mine." He set his lips to her mark.

"I always have been." She dragged her nails down his back. "I always will be."

Her words freed him from his rigid control. They moved together. Fiercely. Clawing. Scraping. Screaming.

She rolled her hips up to greet each thrust. He pushed up onto his hands and stared down at her. The light from the window set his sweat to glistening and highlighted his straining muscles. His hair trailed down over his shoulder and teased along her breasts.

Hermione thrashed and clawed into the sheets as his tempo quickened. Her body ached even as she reached toward the pinnacle again. She whimpered and saw a glimmer of triumph and a flash of amber in his gaze.

He threw his head back and roared his completion as she fell into bliss again. He was a beast and a man. Both of them were hers.


	5. Chapter 5

The wedding was arranged quite a bit too quickly for Molly, but Bill and Hermione wanted to start their lives together officially. She didn't see a reason to rush it, but no one would listen to her. The elves were decorating and cooking up a storm. No one consulted her.

There was nothing for the Weasley matriarch to do. Well, nothing but worry. It was all moving so quickly.

Even the children settled into their new home without a fuss. Having their own rooms seemed excessive, but they loved the space. Shell Cottage had been a lovely house, but The Burrow had been home. Now, this pile of rocks was home.

They adored their soon to be step mother, and spent most mornings with Hermione as she slyly taught them to control their accidental magic. Molly felt sure the Ministry would frown on the practice. After lunch, they did lessons. The elves were teaching them to speak in silly sing song sounds and Hermione was teaching them other things. They spent the remainder of their afternoons running about the well manicured lawn.

They were thriving. She could see it, but she still worried. They didn't seem to miss life at The Burrow. They didn't seem to miss her at all. It was disheartening.

She'd spent years taking care of her children and her children's children, but, now, she had to watch another, not even their mother, take over. Hermione was efficient and intelligent, but how long would she be happy settled in one place. Her wanderlust was legendary. She'd spent years away. Years.

The girl had taken off for more exotic climes just after finishing school. All those job offers had been for nothing. Hermione had disappeared from their lives without so much as a by your leave. She was flighty. She'd never settled anywhere before. Why would she do it now? How long would Hermione hang about before boredom set in?

Bill had no business rushing into a second marriage like this.

The first one had been an unmitigated disaster.

Fleur had tried, but they'd been so different. Her boy had rushed that marriage, too. It had helped stave off worries of the war for a time, but after, he'd stopped smiling.

Now, she stood on the precipice of another one of Bill's bad choices. He wouldn't delay. He wouldn't listen. He hadn't listened to her fears about Fleur, and he'd been all but destroyed.

She had to do something before he was broken beyond repair.

"You needs be leaving our family alone." One of Hermione's elves stepped next to her. "You be all turmoil and worry, but he finally bes home. Thems have real love."

The elf looked up at her with wide eyes. She knew the creature was loyal to Hermione, but this was odd behavior.

"She finds us with no homes and no place belongings, but she was worser. She belongsies, but there no place for her. Her skin itches all the timesy. Her heart always screamses. Her mate no chooses her. He pickses the bird woman. Very bad times." The elf flapped its ears. "So, we becomes hers and she becomes ours. Now, he makings the right choices. Our family be growing."

The elf popped away and Molly finched at the sound. She looked down toward the lawn and watched her grand babies running about with a young woman she hadn't really ever bothered to know. She chewed on her lower lip for a moment.

"Mum, you don't need to protect me from Hermione." Bill stepped into the room. "You've got the elves in a tizzy. They want to marry us in the elves way right this minute. It took a bit to get them to calm down."

"She's barely been back." Molly looked up at her oldest son. "How can you be so sure?"

"She's my mate." Bill looked down to the lawn to see his children chasing her. "She has been all along."

"You can't know that." Molly grabbed his arm. "You can't be sure."

"Mum, I marked her." Bill dropped his eyes to the floor. "I know."

"Well, you marked her." Molly took a deep breath. "That doesn't mean you have to rush this. She can't be impatient because your instincts took over. You are still a wizard."

"She's it for me, Mum. Wizard and wolf." Bill met her gaze evenly. "I marked her years ago, claimed her. She left so I could have the life I wanted with Fleur. She spent years alone and isolated, craving her mate. I was wrong to let her go."

"You marked her years ago?" Molly blinked. "And, you let her go?"

"Fleur was pregnant." Bill frowned. "Staying with her wasn't easy, but it seemed like the right thing to do. I'd made a commitment to Fleur, and I tried. I forced myself to be the best husband I could, but I dreamed of Hermione every night. The moons were agony. My inner wolf was tearing me apart. It was horrible, but there was nothing I could do. Hermione left me to have the life I chose."

"That's why she stayed away?" Molly looked back toward Hermione and her laughing grandchildren.

"It is." Bill placed a hand on his mother's shoulder. She could feel the warmth of it through her jumper.

Hermione had left her son to have the life he'd picked. Foolish, really, but noble. She should have known. The girl always did have a big heart.

"There has to be something I can do to help with this wedding." Molly reached up and patted her son's hand. "I know you want to keep it simple, but there must be something."

Bill chuckled and Molly relaxed. It was about time her son got it right. Really, how had they all ignored how perfect Hermione was for him?


End file.
